Lara Croft: Probably Scarier than most Vor

She was meant to wait. She was meant to stay out of this while the "proper authorities" handled the situation. The thing of it was Lara wasn't meant to be here at all, on this far off world in a distant future that might not even be her own. The people she held dear were dead or painfully out of reach and even as much of a loner as she was by nature, she guarded those who were left even more closely.

And really, once you walk into Hell for someone you love, it's surprisingly easy to do so again without much of a thought. She did it for Sam, she does it now for Miles.

Not having a gaping wound in her stomach is a good start, though the hastily patched knife slash on her hip is starting to nag a little. She is not a naturally intimidating figure, but there is something terrifying about the woman who forces the door of the interrogation room open with a crowbar. Streaked in dirt and blood and dressed in stolen clothes, there's something vicious about the woman who leaps across the room to bring the same crowbar smashing down on the head of the one guard with brutal efficiency. He crumples to the floor with little more than a groan.

That woman seems to disappear with a breath when she turns. It's only Lara, dropping to kneel in front of the chair Miles' tied to, worry radiating off her. "Miles- Miles, are you all right?"

SCARY ENOUGH

Miles is well-acquainted with the meaning of pear-shaped, but any day he gets dragged off by the guys shooting at them is usually a bad one. He knows the cavalry will arrive eventually -- he hopes -- but the job has to get done, too, and is it really so much to hope for both?

He's looking a little worse for the wear, panting and with a contusion on his cheek and a bloodied lip, but he could look a lot worse. He'd just sort of stared when Lara burst into the room and taken out that guard, and he blinks his eyes back into focus, focusing on her. God, the woman's a damned force of nature.

"I could do without the fast-penta hangover, but on the other hand, I haven't got any broken bones, so I'll take it." He eyes the crowbar and a cracked laugh escapes his throat. A crowbar, of all things. Anyone else would have stolen a stunner, but Lara Croft used a crowbar. "Couldn't find a bow and quiver?"

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A laughing Miles was always a good sign. Well... usually. It eases a little of her fear, her chest loosening enough for her to take a breath.

"Seems to be a bit of a shortage on this planet," she says with a little bit of a smile, "Let's get you out of here, yeah?" Though she takes a moment to wipe a little of the blood off his chin before she pulls a ring of keys out of her pocket. Because Lara Croft is nothing if not very good at finding things she isn't supposed to.

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Miles wheezes out a laugh in relief when he sees the keys in her hand, though his chin jerks toward the door as he watches for anyone less than friendly who might have followed her.

"Have I ever told you you're an an angel?" He can't quite seem to catch his breath yet, but that come-down from fast-penta is a dizzying slide, and the interrogation left him feeling completely wrung out. He hadn't managed to pull the Shakespeare trick this time around, but he's sure he threw them enough with his reaction. He wriggles in anticipation, antsy and jittering. "Fairly certain my mother would too, and she's an actual theist. Where's the rest of the crew?"

waves hands vaugely

She sees the little gesture even as she moves around to start trying keys on his cuffs.

"Don't worry, we're as safe as we can get here." Which isn't that safe, but Lara had been through. A good amount of the blood hidden in the black of her clothes is not her own. "They're detained. Not here, they're safe. Something about suspended action, needing clearance. Bel couldn't tell me everything, but they did say it was Barrayar political caste garbage." She technically wasn't part of the crew after all and she was very much not part of ImpSec.

The cuffs open with a sharp clack and Lara tosses those aside, moving back around. "Think you can walk?"

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Up close, Miles can see the damp fabric and it does nothing for the racing panic, but Lara seems to be alright. He's practically vibrating as soon as she gets him free, and he heaves out a breath like a man who's been suffocating once she does.

"Wait, you're alone?" He shakes out his hands with an alarmed look up at her. He hops out of the chair to reach his hands to her shoulders -- he seems to sway a little, but he's more or less steady on his feet. "Er -- if the rest of the Dendarii are behind meters of admittedly effective Barrayaran political red tape, how'd you get in here?"

Probably shouldn't be his prior concern. He should probably be focusing on the fact that his identities have gotten this crossed, and Simon's going to be all kinds of pissed -- but right now, he'll focus on the little details.

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She bends a little, hands out to steady him or take his weight if he needs it. Lara could imagine Miles would prefer if she didn't carry him out of the base, but that didn't mean she wouldn't. He was a little smaller than Sam and they weren't scaling down a mountain at any rate.

"I walked mostly," she said, smiling a little, perhaps a little too at ease for a young woman who's just fought and killed her way through a base. She was mostly pleased to see Miles in one piece, "I might have been here sooner, but my ride broke down."

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Miles is about to object to that lack of real answer, but his legs fail him, and for a moment he just falls heavily against Lara with a wheeze until he can get his feet properly back under him. He's still feeling a little shattered from the fast-penta and adrenaline cocktail. He blinks up at her.

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"You stole a groundcar from Imperial Security?" Miles chokes out, swaying slightly. Alright, so he's overestimated how easy walking would be, but dammit, he's ready to get out of here. He reevaluates just how pissed Simon is going to be after he hears about this whole affair and actually cringes.

"Nothing all that bad," he says, testing his weight, and finds himself steady enough, even if he hasn't yet caught his breath. "Fast-penta just does a hell of a number on me. I think we'd better get moving, eh?"

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Post-fast-penta and unarmed, Miles is not-so-secretly glad for the crowbar in Lara's hand while he's still catching his breath.

"Thought I saw that when they dragged me in here," he pants, limping alongside her. "If I can get any of the outgoing coms working -- I think I've got an override that'll work -- then we can get the hell out of here, and I can start filling out the paperwork for that groundcar." Because lord, will there ever be paperwork. Miles is struck with a sudden, hypo-hysterical giggle. "I really had hoped to introduce you to my boss under better circumstances, Lara, I promise."